Path: inforamp.net!news.nstn.ca!news.dal.ca!torn!howland.reston.ans.net!news-e2a.gnn.com!newstf01.news.aol.com!newsbf02.news.aol.com!not-for-mail From: captain973@aol.com (Captain973) Newsgroups: alt.startrek.creative Subject: REPOST: "Pictures of Eternity" (2/4, P/C) Date: 28 Feb 1996 23:11:52 -0500 Organization: America Online, Inc. (1-800-827-6364) Lines: 154 Sender: root@newsbf02.news.aol.com Message-ID: <4h3928$cmc@newsbf02.news.aol.com> Reply-To: captain973@aol.com (Captain973) NNTP-Posting-Host: newsbf02.mail.aol.com Status: N <> The first day of Federation-mediated negotiations concluded on a high note, with the two Prime Ministers and their accompanying congresses agreeing on dropping a major trade sanction. The team of Picard, Picard, and Troi appeared to be invincible at the negotiation table, and the three met in the Picards' quarters on Tarquenia after the days' negotiations drew to a close. Their meeting was informal, and they shared dinner while they discussed the events of the day. After dinner, Deanna returned to her own quarters to get some sleep. Beverly was rummaging through her carryall, yanking things out and tossing them on the bed. Jean-Luc entered the bedroom in the midst of Beverly's chaos. She looked up and fixed wild eyes upon him. "Where's my medkit? I told you to pack it!" Before he could answer, she made a hasty retreat to the bathroom. She emerged a minute later, looking slightly paler than before. Jean-Luc wrapped his arms around her and held her close. "What's wrong?" he whispered into her hair. She sighed. "Jean-Luc, there's something I've been meaning to tell -" "_Enterprise_ to Captain Picard." Commander Riker's voice sounded over his communicator. "Damn it," he muttered. His sigh echoed his wife's as he touched the comm badge. "Picard here. Go ahead, Number One." Beverly disengaged herself from his embrace and walked back out into the living area. "I'm patching Admiral Sanders through to you, Captain. He says its urgent that he speak to you." After a brief conversation with the admiral, Jean-Luc joined Beverly in the living room, where she was curled up on the couch, staring blankly at a padd. He sat down beside and tucked a fiery lock of hair behind her ear. She smiled tiredly. "What did the admiral want?" He took the padd out of her hands and set it on the table. "He felt it imperative to warn me once again about the rebel factions on this planet. Intelligence says they're becoming more and more aggressive in their demands. He warned us to be cautious." Beverly's eyes began to drift closed. Just before they shut entirely, she muttered, "Don't worry. You're always careful." Jean-Luc studied his sleeping wife for a moment, then gently picked her up and tucked her into bed. He slid in behind her and wrapped his arms around her warm, relaxed body. Just before he fell asleep, he thought, *I'll have to wait until tomorrow to ask her about what she wanted to tell me. But I'm sure it can wait...* * * * * * * * Three days later, all that there was left to do was to have the nation-states sign the final treaty. It had been a long, arduous process, but all three parties felt it was worth it not to have to go to war. Captain Picard, Counselor Troi, and Dr. Picard were seated in the visitor's galley above the Congressional Parlor while the voting was taking place. As each chorus of "Aye" sounded through the parlor, Picard's spirits rose just a bit more. It appeared that it would be a unanimous vote in favor of the treaty. Footsteps sounded in the doorway to the visitor's galley. All three _Enterprise_ officers turned to see who it was, and they found themselves staring down the business end of a very lethal looking blaster. Far below, they heard the astonished gasps of the congressional members as similarly-armed men stormed the parlor. Their leader personally trained his two blasters on the Prime Ministers and called out, "Vote's over! You lose, Federationers!" He gestured with one of the blasters at the galley where the captain, doctor, and counselor were seated. Before Jean-Luc could react, the blaster fired, slamming into Beverly's upper body and propelling her into the wall, against which her head cracked audibly. The blaster swung to Jean- Luc next, but the gunman had no chance against Picard. He'd made a serious mistake in firing on Beverly, for Picard was no longer acting as the captain of the Federation flagship; he was acting as Jean-Luc Picard, husband to Beverly, a man protecting the woman he loves. Pumped up by rage, Jean-Luc rammed into the gunman headfirst, knocking him to the ground in the doorway before the man had a chance to fire again. He pummeled fist after clenched fist into whatever flesh his hands could find, and finally wrenched the blaster away and stood, aiming it directly at the gunman. Before he could fire, Deanna's anguished voice cut through the haze of anger clouding his mind. "Captain, don't! You'll be no better than he is!" Picard reaimed and growled through clenched teeth, "I'll be no better than he *was*, Counselor," and pulled the trigger... ...and nothing happened. The gunman at Picard's feet let out a gasp... which was quickly followed by an explosive expulsion of air as Picard rammed the butt of the blaster into the gunman's gut. "I had the safety on, you bastard. Remember that," snarled Jean-Luc through clenched teeth. Never taking his eyes off the gunman, he almost violently yanked Deanna to her feet and shoved the blaster into her hands. "Watch him," he whispered harshly. The chime of the transporter sounded below as _Enterprise_ security began materializing in the parlor. On the bridge, Riker had kept an open commlink with the Congressional Building to monitor the voting. At the first sound of trouble, he had had Commander Worf dispatch security teams to the transporter rooms for immediate beamdown. Picard dimly noted the transporter as he knelt beside his wife. He gently took her wrist between his fingers, and found a fading pulse beneath the cold, clammy skin. He stabbed viciously at his communicator as a security team made its way up to the galley. "Picard to _Enterprise_. Three to beam directly to sickbay." The cold tingling of the transporter was the last thing he felt before rematerializing in sickbay. * * * * * * * ****^****^****^****^****^****^**** "All of us have violent instincts. We have evolved from predators. ....Well, not me, of course. I've just been programmed by you predators." ---The Holographic Doctor ****^****^****^****^****^****^****